


Clarity

by Beauxxxtiful_lies



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anxiety, Confessions, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Love Confessions, M/M, Misunderstandings, Trapped In A Closet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:55:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23472055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beauxxxtiful_lies/pseuds/Beauxxxtiful_lies
Summary: Hanamaki knew there was only one explanation. Only one reason could possibly exist to explain how he’d ended up here, pressed up against the object of his affections in the dark with his heart threatening to launch itself straight through his rib cage.Matsukawa and Oikawa knew about his crush on Iwaizumi—and they were pranking him.That had to be the only explanation...right?
Relationships: Hanamaki Takahiro/Iwaizumi Hajime
Comments: 12
Kudos: 85





	Clarity

**Author's Note:**

> Hey babes! I’m back with some sweet (and maybe a little self-indulgent) IwaHana. 
> 
> I have one brain cell y’all
> 
> and it belongs to the seijoh 4
> 
> (≧◡≦) ♡

“Not funny you guys. Open the door.” Iwaizumi shoved hard at the closet door that had just swung closed behind them, but it didn’t budge, locked from the outside.

“Did we...did they just...” Hanamaki stood in quiet disbelief as Hajime raged next to him in the darkness, pounding on the closed door as he growled at their friends on the other side to let them out. His fists banged hard against the metal surface making Makki flinch—the sound amplified in the small space, so loud he could feel it rattle in his bones.

“We’re not letting you out.” It was Matsukawa’s low voice that answered them first, amused lilt obvious even muffled through the door.

“You both know how this works,” they heard Oikawa say, and Makki could just picture his smug grin.

“Shittykawa, if you don’t let us out of here right now—”

“Nope! Not until the timer is up! Besides, you’ll thank us later~,” Oikawa sing-songed at them, safe from Iwaizumi’s rage for the moment.

“Why on earth would we do that?” Hanamaki mumbled just loud enough for them to hear.

“You’re both smart. Figure it out,” Mattsun drawled knocking twice before he and Oikawa moved away from the door, the sounds of their laughter and footsteps echoing down the empty hall.

“What the hell...” Hanamaki wondered aloud, shifting awkwardly in the small space. There wasn’t enough room for them to stand side by side, and their shoulders were pressed together in the dark. Suddenly Makki was very aware of the situation their friends had just left them in.

His heart pounded in his chest—beating at his rib cage the same way Hajime’s fists had pounded steadily against the door.

He was trapped in the supply closet. With Iwaizumi Hajime. One of his three best friends, and the man who he also just so happened to have a _huge_ crush on.

Seriously...what the hell?

Something like this happened every year during their last volleyball training camp, but this didn’t make any sense. Normally the team would scheme for weeks and then on their last night, just before lights out, the third years would lock two unsuspecting team members into a room together.

Usually the two that had been pining after each other the longest.

But then why...Hanamaki’s eyes shifted up from where he’d focused on his toes, socked feet glowing in the sliver of light that snuck under the door. Why was he in here with Iwaizumi? They were supposed to be the ones locking their kouhai in, not the other way around. Oikawa hadn’t said a word all week. Come to think of it, no one had. He had all but forgotten; just assumed the captain had no intention of continuing the tradition.

There was only one explanation. Only one reason could possibly exist to explain how he’d ended up here, pressed up against the object of his affections in the dark with his heart threatening to launch itself straight through his rib cage.

Matsukawa and Oikawa knew about his crush on Iwaizumi—and they were pranking him.

That was way more likely than...well...any other scenario.

Because Iwaizumi _definitely_ didn’t like him back. Everyone knew that Iwaizumi liked Oikawa.

And Oikawa and Matsukawa were both assholes.

He let out a slow breath, trying to will his heart to slow down. “Well, it’s official. Iwaizumi, you’re my best friend now. Oikawa and Mattsun are dead to me.”

“That’s good. Because I’m planning on killing them both as soon as they let us out.”

He snickered, and Hajime huffed a laugh through his nose, carefully maneuvering around each other in a useless attempt to give the other more space. As Hanamaki turned to lean back against the wall, amongst the mops and broom handles, his foot tangled with Iwaizumi’s putting him off balance. But just as he felt himself start to topple over Hajime’s arms settled around his middle, pulling him close as his fingers spread out over Makki’s side and his lower back to hold him steady.

His hands reached out automatically and found Hajime’s arms in the dark, gripping over the curve of his biceps as he regained his footing, and _wow_...okay...he definitely didn’t have to worry that Hajime would notice his heart beating overtime because it had just stopped cold.

Hajime’s skin was still warm from the baths and surprisingly soft under Makki’s calloused fingertips. He smelled like eucalyptus and sea salt, probably some body wash with a name like _Cool Breeze_ or _Aqua Fresh,_ and it made Makki want to lean forward and bury his face in the crook of his neck and just breathe him in.

“You okay?” Iwaizumi’s voice yanked him hard out of his spiraling thoughts, and he snatched his hands away, but the grip around his waist didn’t let up. “You’re not like...claustrophobic or something are you?”

“Uhh...yeah,” Hanamaki said as the air rushed from his lungs, imagining he was so close that Hajime could feel his breath on his skin. He felt Iwaizumi tense up at his response and he realized what he’d said, “I mean, no! No, I’m...I’m fine. Just a little...” Disoriented, pissed off at our so-called friends, grateful for a few stolen moments that I will no doubt treasure for the rest of my pitiful high school life. He settled on, “confused.”

When Hajime was sure he wasn’t about to fall over, or descend into a claustrophobic panic he let his hands fall from Makki’s sides. “S-sorry, I know you’d probably rather be in here with someone else.”

Someone else? Hanamaki had only ever liked Iwaizumi. Well... _like liked_. Sure, there had been other people who caught his eye...but never to the same hand shaking, heart stopping, brainscrambling extent that Hajime had captured him.

“Like who?” he heard himself ask.

“Well, I mean...you know how this works. I just figured...you and Matsukawa would...Well it would just make more sense if it were you two in here.”

“Matsukawa?! Wha—that makes even less sense.”

“Really? I just thought...it’s just that you two are so close...” Iwaizumi shifted his weight awkwardly from one foot to the other. At least that’s what it sounded like. Hanamaki could only make out Iwaizumi’s general outline—a darker silhouette in the inky black confines of the storage closet. But why did he sound like that...like he was holding his breath.

“Of course we’re close. Issei’s my best friend. Well, _ex_ -best friend after this. But I’m definitely not...in love with him.” Even though he knew Hajime couldn’t see it Hanamaki scrunched up his face like the words had left a bad taste in his mouth.

“O-oh,” Iwaizumi all but whispered into the space between them. And okay, maybe that was a revelation. He and Issei were really close—and they _were_ sometimes clingy, and flirty, and teasing, but they were never _serious_ about it! A lot of people probably assumed things about his relationship with Mattsun, but why did Hajime sound so...so _breathless?_

“Yeah, I mean...I love him, but not like that. We’re just bros. It’s not like you and Oikawa.”

And now Hanamaki was _really_ confused, because Iwaizumi huffed a sound like Makki’s words were instead a punch in the gut. Hajime sputtered out, “What? What do you mean not like me and Oikawa?”

“Well...I...you...you know what I mean,” Makki struggled to find the words to explain. He shouldn’t even have to explain.

Forcing him to string the words together...this was just the universe’s cruel way of showing him again, in no uncertain terms, that Iwaizumi wasn’t his. It was just another painful reminder that even though he’d dreamed about this, and so many other scenarios like this, it would never turn out the way he wanted.

Because Iwaizumi had Oikawa.

“You guys have been friends forever. You’re always taking care of each other. Maybe you’re not together _yet_ , but...it’s obvious you care about each other.” Hanamaki tried to keep his voice from cracking at the end, grateful for the darkness that hid his shaking hands and the longing he was sure those words had etched across his face.

“Of course we care about each other, he’s like my brother. But Makki we’re not...I don’t...” Iwaizumi voice was soft. Softer than Makki had ever heard; it was so unlike him. He couldn’t pin down what emotion he felt in between those stuttered words but it felt like so many things—confusion, and frustration, and disbelief—and underneath it all...maybe just a little bit of hope.

Finally Hajime collected his thoughts enough to mutter, “I’m not in love with him, if that’s what you think. And he’s definitely not in love with me.”

What did he mean he wasn’t—

That they weren’t—

If Hanamaki hadn’t been leaned up against the wall he would have fallen over.

He was half blind, pressed up against the concrete wall—unable to see the contours of Hajime’s face, or make out any color beyond the thin strip of yellow light that arced over their toes. But even in the absence of light he could see clearly in his mind how Hajime would have reached a hand up to scratch at the back of his neck—the way he always did when he felt nervous or awkward. He could see the pink that would dust just the apples of his cheeks as he worried his lip between his teeth, and the flash of green that would take his breath away as Hajime pinned him with his gaze.

“Huh,” he huffed quietly. “Someone should really let Matsukawa know.”

“No shit?” They were both quiet for a moment, the darkness squeezing in around them before Iwaizumi’s deep laugh filled the space and sank into his skin like warm sunlight that soaked all the way into his bones. Hanamaki couldn’t contain his own laughter when Hajime choked out, “If those idiots haven’t figured it out yet they’re going in the closet next, damn it.”

Laughter subsided to giggles, and soon all Makki could hear were Hajime’s shallow breaths from his side of the closet, and the blood rushing in his ears as his brain frantically tried to process what this new information meant for him and their current...situation.

“Hanamaki,” Iwaizumi cleared his throat. “There’s something I gotta tell you. I think I know how we both ended up in here..and I really hope that I’m right.”

 _Gods_ this is it. This is the moment he finds out he has no friends. Because if Iwaizumi says what Makki thinks he’s about to say, then all three of them are dead to him. He’s going to find a way out of this closet (hopefully with a small shred of dignity intact), and he’s going to walk off into the wilderness where he’ll become a hermit, or a monk or something. Who needs friends? Who needs love? Not Hanamaki Takahiro, that’s for sure.

Suddenly Makki found himself caged in against the wall by a muscled forearm pressed into the concrete next to his ear, and with Hajime’s breath ghosting over his chin.

“Takahiro...” Iwaizumi whispered, and Hanamaki couldn’t hide the hitch in his breath or the quiver in his fingertips as Hajime’s other hand found his in the darkness.

“I...I’m in love with you.”

If his heart had stopped before, those quiet words sent it straight back into overdrive, and his ribs clenched hard to try and keep it from bursting out of his chest. He forgot how to breath, and his lungs burned with the strain. The shadows pulsed and vibrated with energy as static enveloped his mind, and a soft broken sound like a whimper jolted him out of the shock when he realized that sound had come from him.

“W-what?” He didn’t recognize his own voice, it sounded strange in his ears—so small, and too tight with the way his throat closed around the word. 

“Mhmm,” Hajime hummed as his thumb stroked soft circles over the pulse point on his wrist. “And I don’t mean I love you like a brother...”

“Holy shit,” he gasped. It was too late to pretend like he wasn’t falling apart at the seams. “Please tell me this isn’t some kind of joke, because if you three are messing with me right now I don’t think I’ll ever forgive you.”

He wanted this.

He wanted it so so bad, but it couldn’t be real, could it?

“I wouldn’t lie to you. Especially not about this.” Iwaizumi leaned back just far enough to slip his hand from where he leaned against the wall to cup over his cheek, fingertips tracing along his hairline behind his ear. “I love you, ‘Hiro.”

“Hajime...” he croaked as their foreheads tapped together, the tips of their noses touching, sliding against each other in a silent question until suddenly Hanamaki tipped forward to press his lips against Iwaizumi’s.

And just like that it all went quiet. The anxious thoughts, the shaking in his limbs, the screaming in his ears. All gone with the dry press of lips—soft, and honest, and gentler than he thought possible from either one of them—and all that was left was clarity.

“I love you, too,” Makki whispered against his mouth before Hajime was kissing him back. Lips sliding together around grins, and gasps, and quiet sounds of disbelief that they passed back and forth with their breath.

“Takahiro...will you be my boyfriend?” The smile and the warmth in Hajime’s voice had Hanamaki leaning harder into his touch.

It took him a moment to answer, his shaky “yes” caught on an exhale, making him sound less than certain. But he was _far_ from uncertain. It was just that a large part of him still couldn’t believe it was real.

“Yeah?” Iwaizumi probed, sounding unconvinced by Hanamaki’s hesitant response.

Makki slid his hands up Hajime’s shoulders, looping his arms around his neck as he pressed their foreheads together.

“Ask me again.”

Makki counted Hajime’s breaths by the rise and fall of his shoulders. One...two...three...until—

“Hanamaki...Takahiro...Will you be my boyfriend?”

“Yes!” he said instantly, “Yes.”

Their mouths found each other again, just slightly off center, but still pressed together as if they were magnetized. Lips and tongues seeking each other out in the dark around smiles, and snickers, and whispered _I love you’s._

“Any idea when they’ll be back?” Hanamaki asked when Iwaizumi pulled back for a breath.

“No idea. Probably soon though.”

He hoped it was soon. He couldn’t wait to drag him into the light to see the look in Iwaizumi’s eyes when he said those words again—I love you. Matsukawa and Oikawa were probably never going to let them live this down, but he couldn’t find it in him to be angry anymore, not when he had his arms wrapped around Hajime and his lips pressed to his skin.

“Hmm...that’s too bad,” he said with a mischievous edge to his voice.

“Oh yeah? Have something in mind?” Hajime hummed into the curve of his jaw.

Makki huffed a laugh through his nose and pressed a kiss to his temple, “I can think of a few things.”

**Author's Note:**

> “A few things”...most of which involve the various ways they can get back at MatsuOi for locking them in.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! I’d love to hear what you think [did that make your heart happy? Because mine is SO HAPPY!!]. Drop me a comment or come yell at me on Tumblr 
> 
> [@beauxxxtifullies](https://beauxxxtifullies.tumblr.com/)  
> ♡ ♡ ♡


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